


A Lesson on Ornithology

by havetaoque



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banter, Beautiful, Birds, Camelot, Community: camelot_drabble, Court, Fluff, Humor, Humour, M/M, Magic, camelot drabble, exotic, fashion - Freeform, feathers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havetaoque/pseuds/havetaoque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's court has embraced an irritating new fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson on Ornithology

**Author's Note:**

> Written for camelot_drabble prompt #227: Beautiful

Arthur thought that after a month of treaty discussions he would have some peace. He had successfully brought a smaller kingdom under his protection after their elderly princess passed away, and the formerly truculent new court members were eager to kowtow to their new king and mingle with the nobles of Camelot.

The council chamber was starting to look like a botanical garden. Ever since Arthur had made an off-hand compliment about one of lord such and such’s tropical birds just to shut him up, the recently enlarged court at Camelot had taken to wearing the most ostentatious fashions in hopes of catching their king’s favor. As far as Arthur was concerned, the courtiers were no better than the lord’s talking parrot and certainly had worse dress sense.

He sneezed as the diaphanous feathers of one man’s epaulettes floated beneath his nose.

“Sire,” the man simpered, oblivious to Arthur’s sneeze. His feathers bobbed as he swept into a bow. Puffing up ( _like some damned mating pheasant_ , Arthur thought), he said, “Did you know the feathers of the Spangled Bellbird can be harvested only on the full moon on a night after it has rained? They’re extremely rare, but I just knew your majesty would appreciate them.”

“Erm, yes, they are quite lovely,” he said. “Very large.”

The courtier grinned and swept away into the crowd of bobbing, chirping lords and ladies. Arthur took a goblet of wine off a passing serving tray and walked toward one of the columns cast in shadows. The bedecked courtiers seemed to prefer the sunnier side – the better the show off their feathers and brightly-colored dresses.

“Good evening, my king.”

Arthur barely suppressed a groan and turned around to find himself face to face with a lady whose face seemed to be drowning in long, silky, black feathers.

“Good evening.” At her expectant look, he added, “That’s erm. Those are some nice feathers you have, Lady…”

“Lady Eldritch,” she replied, swaying back and forth to put her feathers in motion.

“And may I ask which bird these feathers come from?” Politely, because Lady Eldritch was very wealthy and held a tract of land near the river that Arthur was hoping to add to his territory this year.

“I’m so glad you asked, sire! These feathers are from the Black Horned Tavern Bird. They’re native to our northern shores, I’m told, and are extremely rare. You can find one only three nights before a new moon.”

“I hope for its sake that you treasure those feathers,” Arthur replied, thinking that his court had probably driven every feathered creature to extinction by now.

The lady smiled tightly, looking a bit confused. “Yes, your highness.” She curtsied and swanned away toward the flock of women surrounding Lady Kwineth.

When Arthur turned around, he was met with more plumage, this time blue with golden tips and tapered edges. The man opened his mouth to greet the king, but Arthur said, “Let me guess: extremely rare? Only obtainable on the …sixth night after Beltane while you’re wearing hawthorn branches.”

The man’s smile faltered. “Ah, no sire. That would be the Eastern Pickler bird. They have very _small_ feathers, but they’re a lovely shade of green. These feathers come from the Greater Blue… I’m sorry, sire, I cannot recall the name of the bird. But yes, it is also extremely rare.”

He glanced around the room and waved someone over.

“Look, it’s really alright,” Arthur said. “I’m not sure I need to know which bird gave its life so you could wear its feathers. When I said I liked the parrot, I merely meant that—”

“Here he is!” the blue-feathered lord exclaimed brightly. “This is the wonderful ornithologist who provided us with the feathers.”

“I see,” Arthur said flatly, looking at his manservant.

“My Lord Ornithologist,” said the feathered lord, “I can’t seem to remember the name of this bird for our king.”

“Oh…” Merlin said, studiously avoiding Arthur’s glare. “It’s the…”

“Greater Blue _something_. See, I just can’t recall.”

“Mm. Yes. It’s the Greater Blue… Lake Bird.” Merlin coughed a bit and readjusted his neckerchief where the feather he had stuck in it tickled his chin.

“The Greater Blue Lake Bird,” Arthur repeated.

“Yes, sire.”

Arthur cleared his throat and the Lake Bird lord took that as a sign to leave. When he had rejoined the rest of the courtiers, Arthur put his arm on Merlin’s shoulders and steered him toward the corner. Merlin gulped.

“So tell me, _Lord Ornithologist_ , have you been slacking on your duties to go hunting these _extremely rare_ birds? No don’t answer that. You have single-handedly made this court a living a hell!”

“Arthur,” Merlin said, unfazed and grinning, “I am shocked. You don’t appreciate all this beauty? All those birds who gave their lives so that these wonderful ladies and lords could wear their feathers?”

Arthur took a deep breath and looked again his court. He saw a crowd of the highest members of the nobility dressed up like glorified chickens, all with the hopes of pleasing him. He laughed. The strain of the past month dealing with treaties and negotiations felt lighter – light as a feather, he almost thought. 

“You made all those feathers with magic, didn’t you?”

“Yup,” Merlin said, without missing a beat.

“They’re not too shabby, I’ll admit. Though, Greater Blue _Lake Bird_? Really, Merlin?”


End file.
